


thrill of it all

by republica



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/F, Femslash, Rule 63
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-02-18
Packaged: 2017-11-29 16:43:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/689171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/republica/pseuds/republica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's never seen anyone who can dance like that.<br/>(Female!John/Female!Dave)</p>
            </blockquote>





	thrill of it all

The club is warm and very loud. Not that it surprises you - you’d known what the place would be like, but it’s still annoying. You’re sat in a dark corner, feeling very bored by the atmosphere. You don’t really see the appeal of clubs, which you’ve said many times before, including that very evening. Usually you make up some kind of excuse to avoid coming out. You don’t really see a purpose for binge drinking and pretending not to care about anything. The whole scene feels desperate and degrading to everyone involved.

            You take a sip of the drink a very drunk boy had bought for you at the bar. He was not your type, being a boy, but you didn’t really know how to refuse politely, and you’d wanted to get away from his roaming hands. Having a drink gives you an excuse for sitting down, anywy. Not that you really feel any need to participate in the usual antics of a night out, but it keeps other drunk men from wandering over and asking what a girl like you is doing sitting down.

            Sighing, you glance around to see what everyone else is up to. You spot Vriska, who is with a boy on the dance floor. He looks terrified and also impressed by her wild dance style. Rose and Kanaya are nearby and you have to sigh at Vriska’s lack of subtlety. Why she thinks Kanaya would care about her after everything she’s done, you don’t have a clue. Kanaya’s completely fixed on Rose, and the two of them seem to be in their own world. It’s cute, but also kinda sickening.

            You slide your gaze past them, feeling vaguely nauseated by the whole display.

            The song changes, becoming something with a faster more frenetic beat.

            You spy Meenah, her long braids whipping as she undulates against someone, and then they shift and you see her partner.

            Her hair is almost white, cropped short kinda like Rose’s, but less styled and more... artfully disarrayed. She’s wearing sunglasses inside a nightclub, which on anyone else would be laughably ridiculous. On this girl, it... works.

            You’re staring at them, but you don’t care. The girl’s body moves sinuously around Meenah’s, in time with the music. Her hips sway rhythmically; her black dress is short and exposes a very long lean expanse of white skin, illuminated by the lights.

            The girl puts her arms around Meenah’s neck and draws closer, positively grinding against her. You feel a jolt of heat shoot through you as you watch them.

            You’re suddenly very glad you’re sitting in this dark corner, because you’re probably blushing. Something about her is captivating you, you find yourself intently interested in her movements. She seems worry free, totally engrossed in her body and it’s motions. She tosses her head back and your eyes move up the line of her throat.

            The song is changing again, something slower, and Meenah grins at the girl who nods back before they break apart, whatever casual connection they had severed.

            But she doesn’t seem to care. The girl keeps moving, slowing her dancing to the new tempo. You still have a direct line of sight on her, even though the club is full and the new song that’s playing is a popular one, drawing more people onto the dance floor. The girl doesn’t seem weird or out of place for her solo dance; instead she is only more alluring to you, someone with that lack of interest in the others. She is clearly very confident.

            You take another drink. Most of your ice has melted, and you take your eyes off the girl to frown at the watery remnants left in your glass. Perhaps you ought to purchase another.

            You glance back up and she’s gone. You’re disappointed, but you tell yourself that watching girls in dark clubs is the behaviour of creeps, and you should probably go find Jade or someone. She’s at the bar doing tequila shots, last you saw her.

            You pull out your cellphone. It’s half past one; you’ve been there for almost an hour. That’s nearly enough time for you to leave early and go home. Maybe you can wheedle Jade into leaving with you, so you both can go back to the dorms for some hot chocolate.

“Sup?” comes a husky voice from in front of you, and you look up from your phone to see the girl standing before you. She’s carrying two drinks, and she holds one out to you.

            “Um, hi,” you reply, taking the beverage.

            “So, you like my moves, huh? You’ve got good taste.” Uninvited, she drops into the chair next to yours.

            “What?” You say.

            “Don’t even try and deny it, babe, I saw you watching me,” she smirks at you.

            You fight back a blush. “Actually, you were dancing with my friend Meenah,” you retort.

            “Yeah, and I was also dancing with myself, and you still looked like you wanted to eat me. Not that I mind, you’re pretty hot.”

           You’re definitely blushing now. Damnit. “Um, I guess I was? You dance … really well.” You want to kick yourself for acting this stupid in front of her. To cover up the embarrassment you take a long sip of your drink. When you glance up you see she’s still looking at you, and its fairly blatant, even with the shades.

            “I’m Joan,” you volunteer, wanting the silence to be less awkward. You’ve never been chatted up by a hot girl before. It’s making you very nervous.

            “Dave,” she offers. You laugh, and she frowns. “Don’t even say anything. There is nothing you can come up with I haven’t heard.”

            “Sorry,” you say. “Is it short for something?”

            “What the fuck would Dave be short for? Nope, just got saddled with the world’s biggest idiot as a guardian.”

            “Well, I think it’s cool,” you tell her.

            You think her stare is slightly surprised, but it’s really hard to tell because she doesn’t seem big on emotional cues.

            “That’s better than being asked if I’m some kind of tranny, which is firstly phobic as fuck and secondly rude.”

            “Well, it’s not really my business, is it?” You say with a nervous giggle, which you try to stifle. “I don’t even know you.”

            “Cards on the table: I didn’t buy you that drink just cause I’m a nice girl,” she says, and her voice has dropped an octave and it makes you shiver.

            “What’s that supposed to mean?”

            “Come dance with me and you’ll find out,” she says.

            “Wow, I’m really not a good dancer,” you reply. “I think all that would do is ruin your reputation.”

            “Implying I have some kind of reputation,” she says, but its with the barest hint of a smile. “What’s _that_ supposed to mean, Joan?”

            “No! I didn’t mean - “ You try and backtrack, but she cuts you off by standing and coming to stand very close. She bends down and you hold your breath as she whispers in your ear.

            “I guess you’ll just have to keep watching me,” she says, and another warm jolt cascades down through your body.

            So much for leaving after one hour. You dutifully attend your task, eyes glued to her as she returns to the dance floor. You can’t help but notice she only dances with girls, and its with wanton abandon. You wonder if she’s showing off for you, and if so, why? You’ve barely spoken; all she knows is that you’re obviously paying attention. After the first dance, her head turns back towards you, her mouth quirking again in that tiny smile.

            It’s... stimulating, to put it lightly. You feel tension building in your gut, you can’t help but imagine what if it were you, out there with her body pressing against yours, moving like that. You cross your legs at the slight pressure the thoughts cause in you.

           After five more songs, five other girls who get to experience the wild movements, you think maybe she’s forgotten you. You’re not surprised, really. You’re just a plain girl sitting in a corner.

            But then Dave turns back as the beat starts fading, and she stretches out a finger, beckoning you to her.

            You don’t need telling twice. You get up, pushing away any nervousness, and walk out towards her. This earns you a third quirked lip.

            “Someone’s a little hot and bothered,” she whispers in your ear as she wraps her arms around your neck and sways slightly in the beat. You go pink, but you can’t deny it. Tentatively you let your own arms settle on her waist. The dress is thin and its sticking to her skin. You can feel the heat of her body on your hands.

            “I’m - really, I’m no good at this,” you say weakly as you continue to sway with her. You can’t help the anxiety that creeps under your skin. You feel very exposed.

            Dave seems to pick up on this. She tugs you backwards into the throng of people, until you’re surrounded on all sides by people’s backs.

            “Now no one can see us,” Dave says, and for some reason this makes you very excited.

            She wastes no time in getting close to you, turning so her butt grinds into your hips, reaching behind to grip your waist as she moves on you up and down. You match her pace, ignoring any innate worry about the dancing.

            “There you go,” she says, turning again to shove one knee between yours, her body pressing hot against your side. Her hand lands on your thigh, and she leans in to mouth at your neck as she slips it under your skirt, fingers skimming your skin. Your heart is pounding a mile a minute, heat is pooling inside you as her fingers stroke up your thigh and back down. You’re still moving together, her mouth is still on your skin in a hot messy kiss.

            You exhale heavily against her, moving your hand down from her shoulder to her lower back. Taking a deep breath, you place your other hand on top of hers on your thigh, and urge it upward. Between your legs you’re throbbing, and you know you’re wet.

            She chuckles into your throat, pulling her head back. “So fucking eager,” she says and you nod. “Fuck yeah,” she says, and then she’s touching you, her fingers rubbing against your panties. You moan at the contact, dropping your head forward. You move your hand down to cup her ass and she grinds back, all the while continuing to stroke you through your underwear.

            Once you’re breathless with need she pauses until you whine, then moves your panties to the side and slides one finger up inside you. You bite at your lip to keep from keening.

            “Wanna hear you,” she says, “Wish I could.”

            You know its loud, the music is pounding in your ears. Instead, you turn your head to capture her mouth with your own. She seems almost surprised but then kisses back eagerly. Inside you she’s moving, crooking her finger in a way that makes you writhe in pleasure. You nip at her lip when she moves her thumb to your clit, rolling it in tiny circles. She seems to enjoy the bite, and you repeat it a little harder. That gets you a little noise back.

            “Like it rough, do you,” you say, pulling away. You’re getting really into this, rutting against her hand helplessly and palming her ass. Dave’s nodding at you and you decide on something. You turn to her neck, sucking hard against her skin, then lapping over the skin with your tongue. She’s whispering a steady stream into your ear, pumping her finger inside you. A second joins the first, moving in a rhythm, working you into a frenzy.

            You move your own hand from her butt up to her chest, brushing across her breasts, which are full and noticeable in her dress. You cup one, rub a thumb across it, feel her nipple harden under your touch.

            Dave adds a third finger, and the feeling makes you pause your exploration of her neck and pant slightly. There’s pressure building inside you and you curl in closer to her. You’re not so much dancing anymore as swaying, bodies pressed flush together, her hand twisting and moving, thumb still tracing your clit hard and fast, each movement sending another little jolt of pleasure through your body.

            “Oh my god,” you breathe, “oh my god, Dave,”

            “Come for me,” she says, “Come on, Joan, come on.”          

            You shudder, wildly, bucking against her again, and let out a low and throaty moan into the side of her neck.

            It’s over and you’re left in her arms, and she’s stroking your hair.

            “Wow,” you say, the reality of what you just did catching up to you. Wow.

            “Jesus, that was fucking great,” Dave agrees. “You’re really hot, dude.”

            “Can I - ?” You gesture at her, but she shakes her head.

            “We can leave that for next time,” she says, “I’ve actually got to go.”

            You can’t help feeling disappointed. You don’t want her to leave. But...

            “Next time?” You ask, hopeful.

            “No way ‘m letting you get out of going down on me, Joan,” she says and you blink at her. You are more than okay with that.

            “Give me your phone and I’ll give you my digits,” she says, and you comply.

            She’s gone a minute later, and you’re left with a “Strider - 555 3067” and a feeling of complete disbelief. 

**Author's Note:**

> woooo femslash
> 
> this might have more chapters idk yet  
> (true story this was supposed to be a dave/rose story but then rose turned into john and i dont even ship it hah hah but whatever lesbians~~~)


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